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bootleg-nessie · 6 months

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Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are

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luveline · 2 months

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Bombshell r loosing her mind when Spence walks into work late that one day and he has the “boy band” haircut

“What’s with the face?”

Morgan raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for an answer you don’t have.

“What’s wrong with my face?” you ask.

“Nothing–”

“Clearly.”

“You look way too happy, considering.” He gestures to the board currently displaying a grisly crime scene photo and the empty seat across from you. “Another case, and a severe lack of your favourite toy.”

“Spencer isn’t my toy, he’s my sweetheart, and I’m gutted he’s running late but I’m toughing it out.”

Being on the team is all you’ve ever wanted. With Gideon long gone and enough time elapsed between Strauss’ political push for Emily, you’re here permanently, where you’ve always wanted to be. It’s been the best few months of your life. A lot of that due to Spencer’s unfailing friendship. He’s so kind to you. You’re really getting along.

“Let’s focus in,” Hotch says.

You bridle with excitement, poorly contained. You don’t get very far into spitballing when JJ’s lips part in bemusement.

“Well, hello,” she says.

You turn in your chair away from JJ and Penelope where they’re giving the presentation to the door, where Spencer is smiling genially. He sits down with his bag still on his shoulder, a heavy silence having fallen over the room.

Spencer has cut his hair. Gone is the long, mostly straight lengths of his hair. Did he get a perm? You’re shell-shocked. “Oh my god,” you mumble to yourself.

“What, did you join a boyband?” Hotch asks, frowning.

His lips part in small offence. “No,” he says.

Emily and Morgan laugh. Spencer tucks his chair in, and you don’t know who wants to say what or how quickly you’re supposed to pretend to get over this, but you don’t care. “Spencer!” you say, “Spencer!”

“L/N, please don’t start.”

Hotch is only saying please because he knows he had his own reaction he could’ve kept internal, how can he ask you to smother your own. You lean hard across the table and gaze at Spencer lovingly —startled but inarguably infatuated.

“You’ve never, ever looked this handsome before,” you say, true and not true, “ever. I gotta–” Your hand reaches out at the same moment your legs decide to stand. “Can I touch it?”

Hotch sighs with disappointment.

You pass behind your teammates' chairs to look at him.

“Stop,” Spencer says immediately, his palm to your stomach. “You’re being mean.”

“I’m being mean? You didn’t even consult me.”

“It’s my hair.”

“Spencer, you’re gorgeous no matter what, but I need some warning if you don’t want me to do this.”

“Sit back down,” Morgan says, rolling his eyes.

You tuck one lovely curl behind Spencer’s ear carefully. “I love it so much, I can’t believe it. This is the best thing that’s happened to me since I joined the BAU.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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ghostlywhiskey · 4 months

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domestic price when he’s home from deployment trying to give you time to relax now. you argue it’s fine and that he should be the one resting considering the nature of his job. except, he argues back that you taking care of the two kids while pregnant with the third alone while he was away is unfair.

so, price will make sure you’re getting rest and pampered when he’s home. the type of guy who calls the nail salon you regularly visit to book you an appointment that he pays for in advanced. when you mention wanting to get a haircut, he’ll also call in advance for that - tells them to just charge his card with whatever you want to get done while you are there. and when you go to pay both times and they tell you it’s already taken care of, immediately you call price when leaving and thank him and tell him he didn’t need to do that. pulls the ‘yeah, but i wanted to’ line on you.

and when you come back after your day of getting pampered, the smell from the kitchen gravitating your body towards it as you walk into the house. and, there stands price in an apron preparing dinner. he glances up at you and gives you a warm smile, his eyes wrinkling at the corners.

“how was your day?” price asks, eyes following you as you make your way towards him. your hand gently grabbing his bicep and you reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek but he moves his head to make it a kiss on the lips. when you pull back, its like he reads your mind that you’re about to ask where the boys are.

“your mum came to pick up the kids for the night,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “so it is jus’ us tonight. go relax on the couch and i’ll let you know when dinner is set.”

nodding, you smile to yourself as you head to the living room. somehow you really did get lucky in this life.

#john price #john price x reader fluff #john price x reader #captain john price fluff #captain price x reader #captian price #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price fluff #john price cod #gw sfw price #nic talks price

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avis-writeshq · 8 months

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carriage six – spencer reid

summary: Spencer Reid prides himself in his routine. Wake up at half-past six. Leave his apartment at a quarter past seven. Get onto the seven thirty train. Arrive at Quantico at eight forty five. He has a plentiful of reasons as to why he does it; it’s efficient, it gets him to the office early, it works. But the biggest reason is the girl that always sits in the seat a few rows across from him, headphones on and always reading a book.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).

warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!). i tried to write in Spencer’s pov, and with that comes a lot of rambling. i like to think that his mind is running 100 miles an hour, so i tried to write in a style that could implicate that <3

wc: 1.8k

part two: platform ten

Spencer tries not to look so excited when he enters the subway, clad in light grey slacks, a lavender dress shirt, a brown and purple argyle sweater vest and a mauve coloured tie. His signature leather bag is strapped across his chest and he has a light cardigan in his hand; the weather reports said it would be cold today. His head spins with the statistics on the accuracy of meteorology, considering the bright and sunny skies that blessed the citizens of D.C that morning. He’s donning a new haircut today as well. It was a lot shorter than he originally planned to get it, but he likes it. In fact, he likes it a lot, particularly the way it drapes across his forehead and the way it looks messy but still cool. That’s how he would describe it. Cool. He feels cool.

He hasn’t been able to get onto the subway for three days because of a case in Connecticut and his mind wanders. Will there be another case soon? How long would it take? He hopes it would be a local case. He feels guilty thinking that; he shouldn’t be hoping for a case at all. After all, that would only mean someone else has met their untimely death. He shakes his head to dismiss the thoughts.

He steps onto the train, onto the sixth carriage, and sits on his usual seat. In his mind, it’s the perfect seat. It avoids the sun so he doesn’t need to squint and he doesn’t have to turn the brightness level of his phone all the way up. It’s right next to the door in case he needs to make a quick exit. It’s right next to a handicapped seat, meaning that people tended to avoid it. But the best thing about this seat was the view.

He cringes when he thinks of it. ‘View’ sounds gross. Perverted. ‘View’ is the wrong word to describe it. His favourite thing about this particular seat is the company. Yes, he likes the company, although it technically doesn’t exactly count as company.

His gaze shifts to his company. Exactly four rows away, her eyes trained on the book in her hands. He recognises it to be ‘Pride and Prejudice’, the limited edition rose gold copy that was released eight months, three weeks and two days ago. He has the same copy sitting on his dresser.

She looks different today. Granted, it had been three days since he last saw her. He scans her figure to try to place his finger on the difference and he realises. She’s wearing a new lipgloss. Spencer’s cheeks burn when he realises. Why on earth— no, how on earth is he able to tell? He feels himself cringe and he shifts his gaze and scans the rest of carriage in an attempt to busy himself and his mind, but his eyes ultimately fall back on his company.

Spencer can’t seem to take his eyes off of her. What’s she listening to? Where is she up to in her book? Does she like Austen? Has she read any other books by her? What does she think of Elizabeth and Darcy’s relationship? So many questions enter his mind and he wishes he had the guts to go over and strike up a conversation. But he’s not like Morgan. He doesn’t have that type of charisma or that type of confidence. If anything, he supposes, he’s self aware. He knows that the moment he starts a conversation, he would start rambling for twenty minutes about the relationship dynamics between the characters and why Austen was so incandescent and exceeded all beliefs as a writer in her world. He’d start to bring in authors like Virginia Woolf and why her admiration towards Jane Austen was warranted. Ultimately, Spencer thinks to himself as his eyes wander back to the girl, he’d scare her off.

He watches as she falters in her movements, her fingers pausing from flipping the page and Spencer frowns. From what he could tell, she was a little bit more than halfway through the book. Maybe up to page 260? But there’s nothing remotely difficult in that part of the book. If anything, that was the most simple and straightforward section of the entire text. And then he realises. His cheeks burn once more and he quickly busies himself with his phone, biting his lip and avoiding her amused gaze. Your amused gaze.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze. You’ve seen him all the time, for the past three years in fact, when you first moved to D.C. He’s cute, really cute, and he’s even cuter when he looks like a deer caught in headlights. You raise a teasing eyebrow his way and you watch as he quickly avoids your gaze, looking into his phone. You can’t the soft laugh that leaves your lips, your fingers tracing against the pages of your book. Maybe you have a little more confidence in yourself than you thought.

***

The next day, Spencer feels a small sense of dread creeping into his heart. He feels embarrassed, so goddamn embarrassed, and he wonders how he could face you. His cheeks are burning and he tugs at his collar. He’s wearing a light blue shirt with a patterned purple tie, along with dark navy coloured pants. He teeters on his feet, waiting with anticipation for the train. The moment he enters the carriage, his eyes fall to the seat you would be seated at, only to see no one at all. He can’t help but frown, a little disappointed but a little relieved. He moves to his usual seat, and lo and behold, he sees you there, one leg crossed over the other and reading a different book.

He mutters a soft apology as he slides into the seat next to you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Wuthering Heights,” he says, surprising himself.

He watches as you look up from your pages, a small smile on your face. You’re wearing the same lip gloss as yesterday.

“Yeah.” You smile, taking your headphones off and letting them rest around your neck. “You’ve… have you read it before?”

He nods, and he curses himself for looking so eager. “Yes! Um, yes, I’ve read it. It’s really good.”

“Brönte is brilliant,” You respond, sliding a bookmark in between the pages. “I finished Pride and Prejudice last night. Jane Austen is still my favourite.”

You’re baiting him. He knows that. He takes it.

“I saw,” He says quietly, biting his lip. “Not– not in like a stalker way! I just… I just noticed you reading it on the train. Yesterday. I, um, I saw you reading it yesterday.”

He wants to kick himself. His face is flushed and he’s sure that his neck is just as red as his face. His ears are hot and his head spins when he hears you laugh.

“It’s okay. I saw you too.” You offer a smile, your own cheeks warm. “You were reading Edgar Allen Poe a few weeks ago. Is he any good?”

His eyes light up and he tucks an invisible strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a habit of his, since he’s had longer hair almost all of his life.

“He’s very good,” Spencer insists, pulling the little book out of his satchel. “His works range from short stories to poetry, his most famous works being The Tell-Tale Heart, and Annabel Lee. The former is a short story. It’s a little grim, but he writes in an incredibly eloquent way that presents the narrator’s descent into madness, despite the point of the text being to convince the reader that he isn’t mad. Annabel Lee is a poem about a man obsessed with a woman named Annabel Lee and-“

He purses his lips, realising how much he’s spoken. He coughs into his fist, setting his book down in his lap as he quickly glances at you.

“…and what?” You prompt, your head tilting the side in curiosity. “Go on, don’t let me stop you. You’re convincing me to actually get the book on his collection of works.”

His head practically snaps to look at you, a look of surprise on his face. He scans your face for any insincerity, from your eyes all the way down to your lips, before clearing his throat.

“Um… well, uh, in Annabel Lee, the narrator speaks about keeping her in a castle by the sea. It’s a classic case of isolation and some literature analysts even go as far as to say that the narrator was hoping that Annabel would fall in love with him through Stockholm Syndrome but died before the narrator was able to carry out his plan.”

You take in his words, nodding along to his explanation. “You seem to be an expert yourself.”

He laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “No, I uh, I’m not an expert on literature or anything. But I am a doctor.”

“A doctor?” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like… a medical doctor or…? No offence, but you really don’t look like a medical doctor.”

He laughs again, nodding. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not. I have PhD’s in chemistry, mathematics and physics, as well as BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy.”

You let out a low whistle. “You a collector or something?”

He blushes, swallowing thickly. “No, I uh… no…?”

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself doctor…” You pause, realising that you really don’t know much about this man. You look up at him expectantly.

“Reid,” He says quickly, clearing his throat. “Spencer Reid. You, um, you don’t have to call me doctor.”

“Alright then, Spencer.” You smile, and he thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You introduce yourself and he tells you that you have a pretty name.

Time passes, and the conversation continues. You could talk for hours with Spencer; about books, movies, anything. He can make anything sound interesting, it’s one of his charms. He smiles a boyish grin as he talks, gesticulating wildly as he rants about his favourite texts and why Austen is a genius. He asks you what you’re listening to and you almost scream at the thought of introducing him to Taylor Swift.

Before long, the train lurches to a stop at his station and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“It was nice meeting you. Officially,” He adds, gripping the strap of his leather bag.

“It was nice to officially meet you too,” You respond, smiling up at him as he gets up from his seat. “Tomorrow?”

His eyes practically light up. “Tomorrow.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

part two: platform ten

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff

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rafecameroninterlude · 2 months

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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨

pairing: dealer!rafe x barry’s little sister!reader

summary: ❝i like you a lot, putting on my music while i’m watching the boys.❞ — there’s no denying the attraction you and rafe share when you meet each other. the only problem? he does business with barry, your older brother.

warnings: slight age gap, mentions of drugs, dealing of drugs, protective barry, heavy flirting, teasing, playful banter, slight slut shaming, mentions of underaged drinking (reader is twenty, rest assured!), unprotected sex, semi-public sex, rafe fucks you against the wall, hair pulling, overstimulation, cream pie

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i got a little too invested in this lol. remember my requests are on and you could request more of this pairing if you’d like! (i have some more ideas with dealer!rafe and barry’s little sister!reader ;) series masterlist

tick, tick, tick.

you glanced at the clock in the corner of your room, the time 3:37 PM flashing back at you. the hottest time of the day, and you were definitely feeling it. you sighed, deciding to play some vinyls to pass the time. barry had stepped out real quick, leaving you by yourself to play your music as loud as you want.

you hummed along to the tranquil sounds, putting your hair up in a ponytail as you watched the record spin. placing your hands on your hips, your head shot up as you heard the revv of a bike outside. probably barry, you thought. making your way to what’s supposed to be the living room, you waited for the door to open, ready to give your brother an earful about the ac going out, again.

instead, you were met with a loud bang and a series of knocks after that. you jumped at the sound, peeking outside the window to see who it was. fresh haircut, collared shirt, and a gold ring on his index finger, he was definitely not from this side of the island. “it’s rafe man, open the door!” you paced back and forth, wracking your brain if whether or not you should let him in. barry’s number one rule for you was to never open the door to anyone who comes looking for him, he refused to get you involved in anything he did.

what was a kook doing here anyways?

the man outside kept knocking until finally you cracked the door open, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “ah, shit, i’m sorry i didn’t know barry had a girlfriend.” you were immediately taken aback by his words, a grimace gracing your face. “ew, no way! he’s my brother.” you moved forward, your body basically wedged between the flimsy metal.

at this, rafe raised his eyebrows. “your brother? i’ve never seen you here before.” you crossed your arms. “yeah, that’s because he’ll have a heart attack if i come out while he has someone over.” rafe scoffed. “yet, you opened the door for me?” the corner of his lips lifted slightly, your heart squeezing at the sight. “don’t flatter yourself, it’s not everday that a kook turns up outside.” you tilted your head, letting it rest on the doorframe. rafe scanned your outfit before his gaze settled on your eyes. “that’s fair,” he nodded, “i could see the resemblance a little.” you laughed softly.

“we have different dads, but i’m way prettier than he is.” you rocked on your feet, letting your orbs wander across the man in front of you. “yeah, you are,” your cheeks reddened instantly, rafe taking notice of the effect he had on you. “you gonna let me in? or do i have to stand here until barry gets back?” you pretended to think, tapping your red nail against your chin. “you could wait!” you slammed the door, laughing loudly at the look on his face.

as much as you really did want to let him in, you knew you had to be smarter, considering the kind of business barry was in. you went back to your room, still giddy from your interaction with rafe. you moved the curtain, watching as he plopped down on one of the crates outside. your music still played in the background as you kept your eyes on him, your teeth pulling your bottom lip.

there was no denying how attractive he was, anyone with two eyes could see how handsome he was, especially with that pained stare of his. less than five minutes later, you saw barry walking up the dirt path, rafe jumping out of his seat to greet your brother. you quickly stood by where the entrance of your room was, listening closely to their conversation. “hey, man, did you try to come in or something?” your eyes widened as you mentally slapped yourself. of course you’d forget to lock the door when you really needed to.

“nah, a girl answered it.” to be fair, you slammed in rafe’s face, but you didn’t expect him to full on tell on you. “you don’t say…” you threw yourself on your bed, pretending to read a magazine just in time for barry to come in. “come out here,” he ushered you towards the living room. “you answering doors now?” he sat down next to rafe on the couch. rafe wore a smirk, obviously enjoying all of this. “i just answered this one. he looks harmless anyways,” rafe’s smirk disappeared as barry burst out laughing beside him. “damn country club! can you tell we’re related?” you rolled your eyes, taking a seat at the small round table by the kitchen.

rafe held his hands up in defense. “i’ll give that one to her,” he took out a wad of cash, throwing it in barry’s lap. “just don’t do it again, alright? i ask you not to do that for a reason.” barry pointed at a paper bag in front of you. “stopped at your favorite spot, mary gave it to me on the house as soon as i mentioned your name.” you smiled, taking the slice of cherry pie out of its container. you made a mental note to go by and thank her later. “thank you, bear,” barry shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as soon as the nickname slipped.

“y/n..” you laughed, licking the cherry filling from your finger. rafe watched you the entire time, loving the way your laugh sounded in his ears. “i’m sorry!” you wiped your brow, the sweat reminding you of what you were gonna tell him in the first place. “the ac is out again by the way,” barry took a box out from behind the couch, “yes, y/n, i know it’s like a thousand degrees in here.” he cracked open the windows. you looked past him, your eyes falling on rafe who was manspreading on the couch. with a view like that, it was nearly impossible to look away.

him and rafe started trading cash and blow, both of them wearing a serious expression as rafe weighed the baggies, and barry counting the money. “i ran into lori on my way back,” barry spoke up, “she said you and her were gonna go out tonight?” rafe paused, looking up at you as you nodded. “yeah.. so?” you arched a brow at him. “you aren’t going to the tavern again are you? i’m not gonna be happy if i get another call that you and your troublemaker of a friend are dancing on tables together.” now it was your turn to be embarrassed.

you cleared your throat. “yes, we are going to the tavern, but no dancing on tables this time, just to hang out with some friends.” barry nodded. “if that bartender serves you, you better tell him i’ll be paying him a visit.” you swallowed at his words. “you’re not even old enough to be in there.” he added. rafe’s jaw clenched as you answered back. “i’m old enough for them not to ask questions, they don’t care.” you got up, throwing the empty pie container in the trash can.

“i’m gonna go get ready at lori’s, at least at her place i could make it out the door without melting.” you went to your room, quickly throwing some clothes in your bag before making your way to the living room. rafe stared at your exposed midriff as you stood in front of the door. “lori’s is kinda far, why don’t you wait till i’m done here and i can take you.” you shook your head, your fist twisting the doorknob. “no need, i’ll come back home later tonight.” you spared rafe one more glance before leaving, a small smile forming on your lips when he winked.

“i didn’t know you had a little sister, bear.” rafe mocked your nickname for barry, barry shoving his shoulder soon after. “call me that again and i’m gonna fuck you up country club.” rafe clapped his hands, putting the bags he weighed in his backpack. “i’m just fucking with you man,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “but seriously you had a sister this whole time? and i’m barely finding out about her now?”

barry flashed him a look. “yeah, and? you don’t need to know about her,” he put his cash in the same box as the coke, flipping the top closed. “she’s the only family i got, i don’t want her in the mix with what i do.” he sat back in his seat. “she’s cute.” rafe shrugged. “yeah? your sisters cute too, think she’ll give me a chance since she’s already running around with a pogue, anyway? watch your mouth man.” rafe laughed as beads of sweat started forming on his forehead.

“jesus christ.” he shook his head. “kook party tonight, so i’m gonna be on my way.” rafe slung his backpack over his shoulder, making his way outside. “come back with my money tomorrow!” barry shouted from the living room, cursing under his breath as he watched rafe leave.

“aw, come on, one more!” lori pushed a shot glass at you, all your friends watching with anticipating eyes. this was only your second shot, not nearly enough to get you drunk whatsoever. obliging, your friends roared into cheers as you downed the burning liquid, slamming the glass down on the counter. “that’s our girl!” lori shook you by your shoulders, the bartender looking away from where you sat. “okay, no more. seriously, i can’t go home drunk.” you laughed.

you had been at the taven for nearly two hours already, your friend group settling down for the night as some of them started to leave. “hey,” lori took a swig from her beer, “would you mind if i left with chris? he’s been trying to get me to go home with him all night.” a part of you knew your best friend would leave with her on again off again boyfriend before you two had even arrived here.

“no, you go ahead. you know me, i’ll just catch a ride with someone else.” you hugged her, shaking your head as she mouthed ‘thank you’ on her way out. just as the door closed behind her, it swung back open, your breath catching in your throat at the man striding in.

rafe.

you spinned in your chair, eyes shutting tight as if that’d make you disappear into thin air. sure enough, you felt the heat of someone on your back, his voice cutting through the thick air of the bar. “two cokes,” you relaxed, accepting your fate as he cleared his throat. “you gonna stay facing the wall the whole night?” you caved, unshielding your face from your hands. “what are you doing here?” you suddenly felt exposed, your top suddenly feeling more tight than it did five minutes ago. “this is a bar isn’t it?” he scooted a glass towards you, taking a sip from his own.

“you know what i mean. barry isn’t anywhere near here.” you heard your heart beating in your ears as he eyed you carefully. “i didn’t come for barry.” rafe leaned closer to you, his cologne intoxicating you more than any bottle of liquor in here could. “aren’t you supposed to be making my brother money right now?” sass was your defense mechanism, and right now you needed it. “i already did, sweetheart. sold out in thirty minutes.” your mouth opened slightly.

“i didn’t know blow was in such high demand over there on figure eight.” you covered your chest, a shiver going down your spine when his eyes flickered to your cleavage. “yeah. a bunch of sheltered rich kids made me, well your brother, nearly two thousand dollars in less than an hour.” you scoffed. “anything to rebel against mommy and daddy, right?” you accepted the soda, letting yourself relax. “you’re telling me you never rebelled?” rafe scoffed. “i never had to.” you shook your head. at this, the man next to you scooted closer, his thigh touching your own.

“where are your friends? i thought you told barry they’d be here with you.” he looked around, noticing everyone talking amongst themselves. “they were here with me. i usually like to stay later after it calms down a bit.” you shrugged. rafe nodded, his hand moving your hair off of your shoulder. his touch was enough to make goosebumps spread across your skin. “tell me something, y/n..” rafe leaned in, his breath fanning against your cheek, “does your brother know that your tits spill out of your tops when you go out?” your head shot in his direction, your face growing hot at his proximity.

“i wonder what he would say if he knew there was so many eyes on you.” you sighed, rafe’s large palm now resting on your thigh. “including yours?” his fingers dug into your skin as you let out a shaky breath. “why don’t you tell him, then? let him know that you were in the same bar as me.” while you expected him to respond with something smart, his lips hovered above yours as he whispered, “i won’t tell if you don’t.”

rafe kissed you, your hands balling up his shirt as you kept yourself from moaning at the taste of him. he kissed you slow and deep, the feeling of his lips moving so languidly with yours becoming your new favorite thing. rafe groaned, the sound pulling you out of whatever world you were in at the moment. his eyes swept over your face, his chest rising and falling as you pulled away. “i, uhm- i need the restroom, i’m sorry,” you panicked, clutching your bag as you speed walked down the dark hallway of the bar.

what the fuck were you doing right now??

you shut the door behind you, your eyes narrowing as the neon signs on the wall flashed their colors at you. you had never even been with a pogue, let alone a kook. not to mention, rafe does business with barry, it would make things complicated and you don’t even want to think about what your brother would do if he found anything out. you ran your fingers through your hair, taking a deep breath before you found yourself touching your lips, the feeling of rafe still there.

you knew what you had to do; you needed to get out of here as soon as possible and forget about him, as harsh as that sounds, you couldn’t risk everything just because he’s so dangerously handsome and gives kisses that’ll make you reminisce about years from now. okay, you muttered to yourself, gathering yourself together as best as you can. as soon as you opened the restroom door, it all came crashing down as rafe looked up from where he was leaning against the door frame. the second your eyes met, you pulled him in as he attacked you with another kiss. this kiss was rough, it was bruising, but so fucking good.

rafe locked the door behind him without turning around. “we shouldn’t be doing this.” you spoke inbetween kisses as he backed you up against the wall. god, he was tall. rafe towered over you easily. “no, we shouldn’t,” he ran his thumb across your bottom lip, “this will be our secret, alright?” him indicating that ‘this’ was going to become a thing, meaning this wasn’t a one and done situation, made your heart flutter in your chest. you nodded, your bag long forgotten on the floor as he undressed you. “fuck, you’re perfect,” his shirt was next to go, the sight of his erection pressing against his jeans was enough to make you clench around nothing.

you shuddered as he took his belt off in one swoop, his pants and boxers pooling around his ankles. he grabbed you by your hips, picking you up as he pinned you against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. “i’ve wanted to do this to you since the second you answered that door.” his mouth latched onto your neck, your fingers tugging at the ends of his hair as he ground his cock against your wet folds. “these fucking eyes,” he moved your hair, both of you moaning as he entered you slowly.

“oh, fuck,” your head fell on his shoulder as he fucked into you. you don’t know what was hotter, the expression on rafe’s face, or the fact that he was fucking you while standing up, your weight like nothing to him as he slammed you down on his hips. “saying i look harmless? wait till you find out about me.” he repeated your words from earlier at the trailer, understanding completely that this man was anything but. he made you want to do things you’ve never done, things that have never even crossed your mind.

“i was wrong.” you planted a kiss on his jaw, the action sending a shiver down his spine. rafe never let anyone kiss him during sex, or at all really, he didn’t know what was happening, all he knew was that he liked it when you did it. you hissed with every thrust, your back scratching against the wall. “hurts, rafe,” you mouth hung open as he grunted, letting you down on wobbly legs. he grabbed your wrists, placing them on your back as he bent you over the sink. rafe only entered the tip, a smile growing on his face as you looked up at him through the mirror.

“why’d you stop?” you nearly pouted before he delivered a sharp slap to your ass. “fuck yourself on my cock, i want to watch.” rafe’s head lolled to the side as you glided onto him, your velvety walls sucking him in with ease. “oh, my god,” he took his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyebrows knitting in pure bliss. “you’re doing so good.” he breathed out, his hips bucking when you clenched around him. you were a high he could never come down from, the realization hitting him in his chest. he grabbed your waist, his large hands encircling your lower back as he started thrusting.

even though your elbows ached from your arms being tucked behind you, the pleasure overpowered any discomfort you felt as you fought to keep your eyes open. you were so full, the feeling of his head constantly hitting that soft spot inside you, making your knees buckling as rafe reached under, rubbing your clit at an unforgiving speed. a sob ripped from your throat, your head hanging in defeat as rafe watched your reflection. even when you were getting plowed into, your eyes sparkled under the neon lights, your lips looking swollen and perfect for him.

rafe felt his own climax approaching as his determination to make you cum first grew. the coil in your tummy was unwinding with each stroke of his fingers until finally it snapped, your eyes rolling back as he pulled you up by your hair. if it wasn’t for the music blaring outside, the sound of skin slapping against skin would bring a blush to your cheeks. “gonna send you home tonight with my cum sticking between your thighs, how does that sound?” you moaned at his words, nodding as your soaked cunt fluttered around his cock.

rafe buried his face in your neck, leaving sloppy kisses as he finished inside of you, thick hot ropes of cum shooting against your walls. “take it,” he covered your mouth as you whined at the overstimulation. “take every last drop you fucking slut.” his movements came to a slow stop, your eyes damp with tears. rafe dabbed the corner of your eye with his thumb, shushing you as he pulled out. “you’re too pretty to cry,” he spun you around, your fucked out eyes gazing up at his. “there’s no way in hell i could walk all the way home now.” you sighed, an exhausted laugh falling from your lips.

“you were going to walk home?” disbelief echoed in his voice as he pulled up his pants. “yes, but don’t worry i’ve done it plenty of times-” rafe picked up your clothes from the floor, “you’re never doing that again, got it? i’ll be your personal chauffeur if i have to.” he helped you put on your shorts and underwears, both of you smiling softly at eachother. just as rafe was going to hand you your top, you shook your head, pointing at the bag in the corner. “i have a spare t-shirt in there, i can’t let barry see me in this.” you leaned against the sink, your legs feeling like jelly. rafe slung your bag across his shoulder, putting your t-shirt on for you.

“all ready?” he wrapped an arm around your waist, supporting you up as you made your way outside the restroom, trying to the best of your ability to avoid the stares of those who watched you two leave the bar. as if he could sense your unease, rafe turned as you walked up to his bike. “what’s wrong?” he moved your hair out of your face. “word travels fast around here,” you looked into the distance, your mind racing with how barry would confront rafe if he ever caught ear that you and rafe left a bar together. “yeah? so,” you flashed him a look that said ‘my brother will actually kill you if he finds out about this!’

rafe sighed, pushing his helmet into your hands, “don’t worry about anything, i’ll ride out of there fast enough for him not to see me, alright? if he questions you just say it was someone else. it’s dark as shit out there anyways.” with his reasonings, you felt a lot better, ultimately deciding to let him take you home. he had you back at the trailer in less than ten minutes, your heart racing as he rode up the dirt path. you swallowed nervously, hopping off when he came to a stop. you handed him his helmet, about to run inside before he grabbed you.

he took your lips in a searing kiss as your hands snaked over his shoulders. “i’ll be here tomorrow to give your brother his money,” he whispered, grabbing a handful of your ass while you looked back at the seemingly quiet trailer. “okay, rafe you have to go!” you laughed, pecking his lips one more time before you jogged to the front door. sparing him one more glance, you waved as he watched you go inside, only hearing him ride off when you shut the door behind you. you sighed, not being able to stop smiling at the whole thing. “you’re back late.” you jumped at the sound of barry’s voice as he walked away from the window. “uhm, yeah- i’m pretty tired though, so..” you avoided his gaze as you started to make your way to your room.

“hold it right there.” just like your movements, your heart stopped as barry let out a bitter laugh, the light from the tv illuminating his face. “am i tripping or was that country club that just dropped you off?”

fuck.

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auspicioustidings · 4 months

Note

Any version of Soap in any position of power would be soooo disgusting, calling IT Security reader at all times of the day and telling her that the speaker on his computer doesn’t work, while he’s clearly streaming some porno in the background 😭😭😭

You get it Lumi, he's a sick freak :) You also sent this while I happen to be working through 1k requests so bonus short for you <3

Back Chat

Words: 1k

CWs: non-con groping, just all around gross awful Soap

Sergeant John MacTavish was the reason you had poured over your contract for any get out clause that didn't cost you a fortune. You came up with nothing. The military had paid for a high end training course for you on the provision that if you left the role within 2 years then you had to pay every penny back.

Plus this job paid well and the benefits were great. You didn't even mind having gruff military personnel seeing fit to give you a bollocking over the phone because you would be following procedure whether they liked it or not and they could file a damn ticket if they wanted their issue looked at. Generally they were an OK bunch at heart, but rough around the edges and used to recruits eager to please them. When they realised your lack of any rank also excused you from being ordered around by anyone but your actual boss they usually mellowed out.

Of course you had made the mistake of chewing out one such gruff man after he called in a temper demanding that his laptop be fixed as a priority. Not even his work laptop, no he wanted his personal laptop fixed.

“Look MacTavish was it?”

“Sergeant MacTavish tae you.”

“No it isn't. I am not one of your soldiers. I work in IT for the military, your laptop is not military property so I'm not touching it. Use your big boy Sergeant wage and buy a new one.”

“Listen here ye wee bitch-”

You hung up on him and got on with your day right up until he physically showed up at your office on base. You handled IT for multiple bases, you had not considered that the person you had chewed out would actually work on this one. Oops.

He was a big motherfucker as well. Handsome. Crazy scary dog energy. Definitely not your usual soldier with his lack of uniform (unless jeans and a t-shirt that was so tight he was liable to tear out of it was uniform these days) and out of regulation haircut. You scrambled to try and stand but he was already looming over you in your chair, leaving you no space to do so as he settled his hands on the armrests and leaned over you to get into your face.

“I'll need tae settle for you then hen. Better make it good.”

“Excuse me?”

“The lassie on my laptop begs tae get it up the arse. Is a good girl for a thick cock pounding her tight cunt. Even when she's fucked oot her nut and ruined she still gags around a man down her throat and swallows like a proper bitch.”

You were flooded with fear and arousal. Nobody had ever spoken to you like that and you weren't entirely sure he was joking. He wouldn't actually do anything to you right? He was just being a dick because he wanted his laptop fixed. Just trying to intimidate you.

“And I bet she gets paid a lot more than me MacTavish, back off.”

Oh no. There was a feral gleam in his eye and a rabid grin that showed those sharp incisors. He clearly relished your response.

“Then I'll need to buy ye with, what was it? Right. My big boy Sergeant wage.”

He leaned in close and took a deep breath. Christ he was sniffing your currently greasy and messy hair. You hadn't showered in like 2 days, you were fucking IT, it wasn't like people usually came to physically see you in your little den.

“...I'll fix your fucking laptop oh my God just bring it by.”

“Atta girl” he all but panted into your ear before tugging at the lobe with his teeth and then fully tounging at your ear hole.

The sensation was truly the most awful thing you had ever felt. Your skin crawled and your body shivered uncomfortably as you tried to push him away from you. He chuckled and you choked on your own saliva as he firmly smacked your pussy before pulling away.

“I'll bring it right doon.”

You were left completely gobsmacked in your little office, your body hopped up on adrenaline and your cunt throbbing from the spank it had gotten and from the sick part of your mind that found the whole thing depraved and disgusting but sort of titillating.

When he brought the laptop back he hovered behind you while you worked on it, making you sweat. It was an easy enough fix and you sighed in relief and carefully avoided eye contact when you told him it was fixed.

“Ye’ll check it over, cannae be sending me away with a half done job.”

“You can see that it's working.”

He leant over, arms surrounding you so he could scroll over to open a video file. It was of a woman being railed hard from behind, drooling into the pillow and babbling for more. The wet squelch was disgusting, the man spitting down on her and smacking her already red ass.

“Speakers are fucked.”

You squirmed in your seat.

“I can hear it just fine.”

“Aye? What are ye hearing then?”

You remained silent, eyes fixed on the wall instead of on the screen. At least you were silent until he drew a yelp from you by groping one of your tits.

“Told ye, if ye cannae prove that it's fixed I'll need to settle for you. Bit shorter, softer and dirtier than my lassie mind, so got tae give it yer full effort.”

“I-It's working!”

“Prove it, what ye hearing?”

He made you replicate the whole script from each broken moan to the begging to the degrading. He was only satisfied when the whole video had run its course, by which time he had a hand on either tit, rough with how he groped and tugged.

“See now? Wisnae so hard to follow a Sergeant's orders was it?”

“No” you mumbled, crying out when he gripped your nipples through your shirt and twisted. “No Sergeant!”

He let go then, closing the lid of the laptop and standing with it to leave.

“Got an LT having trouble with his phone, he's naw as friendly as me though so best limit the back chat soldier.”

#mhairiwrites #cod #soap x reader

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compact-turtle · 1 month

Note

When we are talking big age gap how old are talking about with our farm boi ? Also what would he do if reader don't see him that way because his age would he change his style or the way he carry himself to appear younger?

I imagine Atticus to be around late twenties to mid thirties.

-He would be really insecure about the fact that reader sees him as someone older. Honestly, his speech pattern and clothing doesn't help. Atticus doesn't have time for trends, so he seems older to darling.

-He'd def mop around for a bit when he realizes that reader thinks he's old. However, he'd quickly realize that being sad isn't going to solve his problems for him.

-He would try to change but ultimately would end in failure since he has no idea where to start. He has no frame of reference for what's "in" for the current time. His idea of current trendy would be whatever the youths are wearing in town (Which is probably nowhere close to what you'd consider trendy or current)

He'd be the equivalent of "What's up my youngster youths? What's hip with you guys?"

-The closest thing that would happen is that he'd probably start grooming himself better. I imagine that Atticus probably wears a hat most of the time to cover up his ugly hair cut around you. (Makes you wonder if he's bald or not sometimes). He'd probably fix his ugly ass haircut and shave more to appear younger.

-Eventually, he'd have to just realize that he can't fix reader's perception of being seen as old. Instead, he'd show that he could be the best potential husband because he can cook, clean and do so many household chores. He's kinder, wouldn't let you work yourself to the bone, as well as possessive and obsessive would adore you so much more than anyone else.

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cvpiddszn · 5 months

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐤 | 𝐣.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: sorry for the lack of content. happy to be back posting my favourite couple

summary: having to explain how babies are made to two five year olds isn't easy.

warnings: children

word count: 1.2k

birdie & jack masterlist

Seven months later

"Mommy?" Little Lake was munching on his Cheerios, his eyes trained on me, a full-on question. I nearly brushed my hand through his brown hair, it was well overdue that we needed a haircut (Jack included). Lake’s hair was beginning to curl at the ends, while Lowen’s had taken longer considering the gum that he had gotten stuck in his hair a couple of months before.

Switching Amara on my other hip as she held her apple sauce drink in her hands squeezing at the package in hopes that she would be able to suck out anything else. “Yes, baby?” I asked, pulling the drink from the little blonde’s hands to which she whined, I shook my head at her and she made grabby hands towards her father.

Jack only smiled at the girl, taking her from my arms before setting her on his lap so that he could finish eating his toast. He held it out to the little girl to which she nearly bit off his finger while eating it. I leaned down kissing the little girl’s cheek whispering a soft, “good girl” watching as Jack gave me a glare.

Jack was sipping at his apple juice, since he loved it so much, claiming that it was better than orange juice (yes, I argued with him multiple times that orange juice was better). Amara watched her Dad and reached for her cup beginning to drink at it too.

“Where do babies come from?” Lake asked, his voice full of concern as his twin perked up at the question eager to also find out.

Jack spit out his juice at the question, while I paused watching my husband and then the little girl in his arms follow exactly what her father did, spitting out her juice and then giggling but Jack was so stunned that he didn’t notice the spill on his leg.

“Jack!” I scolded, tapping his shoulder rather harshly, face cloth in hand wiping at our daughter’s face where she decided that she needed to spit out her drink. I pulled her from his lap, to which her bottom lip came out, missing her father’s arms already.

Jack coughed, trying to regain his breath. The boys looked toward their father who only sputtered, they looked at me next. Wide innocent eyes and I debated on what I should do, whether it was appropriate or not. We had promised that we wouldn’t lie to our boys but we had already played along with Santa, the Easter Bunny and many other mythical creatures, plus were they truly old enough to understand any of it yet?

Within their childhood, I had already had one kid, another one only four weeks old in my stomach. We had told the boys as quickly as Jack had found out, we knew that it was inevitable that the boys would find out, and they treated their little sister so well, what was one more?

My husband looked toward me for guidance and I shrugged. “They’re boys, J. Mara and I will just understand each other won’t we, sweet girl?” I cooed at her to which she smiled at me at the newfound nickname. I knew that I would take my twelve months leave with the new baby, Amara wouldn’t be with the Nanny for too long if you counted eight more months.

Amara grabbed onto my nose, squeezing softly, her small nails pressing into the skin and I shook my head at her. The three boys sat at the table, seemingly waiting for me to say something but it was only a couple of days ago that Jack had complained that he wanted more time with the boys, saying that they clung onto me way too much (which was very true).

I sighed at the silence, my free hand placing itself on my husband’s shoulders. “You boys actually want to know?” I whispered loudly like it was some secret and even Jack gave a confused look eager to hear me out. The twins nodded eagerly, wide eyes and practically on the edge of their seats with how excited they looked knowing some secrets. “Truth is, there are such things as storks that come to drop off babies at hospitals. We sign a bunch of forms, they run some tests on the mommies to make sure that it’s her baby, and we get to go home with the baby.”

My husband raised his brow at me, looking towards the boys whose mouths made an ‘o’ shape as if it was the realization. “That makes a lot of sense, Annabelle was telling me that it had to do with ‘the birds and the bees’. I don’t know what she meant.” Lowen explained, to which Lake nodded along. The two got out of their seats walking towards their lunches to grab them and make their way into the car.

Jack also stood up from his spot, kissing my cheek and then Amara’s, “Nice save,” He commented, and I only grinned in response, tapping my lips gently so he could get the hint. He didn’t waste another second stealing a kiss from me, hoping to make it last but Amara pushed his face away. Pursing her own lips in an attempt. I laughed at the girl, adjusting her higher on my hip watching as my husband kissed the little girl on her lips as she smiled satisfied.

“Did you get a kiss from Daddy, sweet girl? Hm?” I asked her as she gurgled in response. Surprisingly she hadn’t said her first word but there were many bets placed between our families that her first word would be “Dada” or something along the lines but I knew that it was going to be something else. Call it mother’s instinct if you will. I looked towards Jack who had seemed to admire us, “You’re going to make the boys late, J. You’ll be back with your girl right after you drop off the boys.”

“My girls, you mean.” He corrected me and I gave him an adoring look before placing my hand on his back, nudging him forward hinting towards the time. He only nodded in response, kissing my cheek briefly before racing out the door.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Mrs, Laurier, we had an incident today.” Lake’s teacher, Miss. Calvin, walked up to me as the boys were ushered into the SUV beginning to talk amongst each other. We had thought that it was best that to separate the boys young, it gave them more to talk about in the car and sometimes twins created more chaos together rather than separately.

My brows raised, motioning her to continue as I closed the car door. “There was an argument that broke out between some kids, including Lake. Something about that storks were bringing his new sibling? Our Principal said that we don’t condone lying so we’re going to need you to tell your boy that he’s wrong.” She explained a nervous smile on her face that told me, she didn’t believe in anything she was saying.

I barely even paused shrugging my shoulders, “Okay,” Was the only thing I said before walking to the other side of the vehicle.

She waved at me, smiling, “See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” I mumbled pulling out of the pick-up area, biting the inside of my cheek. Holding me back from parking and storming into the Principal’s office and screaming at her. Who were teachers to tell parents how to parent their children? We certainly don’t tell them how to do their job.

There was no way I was going back to that place, and Jack would agree as he always did

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes imagine #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes #nhl hockey #hughes brothers #cvpiddszn writes #luke hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #nico hischier imagine

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mrvlbimbo · 2 years

Text

You mean nothing (everything) to me

Eddie Munson x reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT WARNING

4.3k words

She was already having a bad day at work when Mike and Dustin had so rudely bursted through the door of the video shop. The first thing she thought was that they should be at school but then she reminded herself of her own highschool days and she felt more forgiving. “I’m not giving you guys any more rated r movies. My boss had my ass for it last time,” she barked at them as they perused the shelves, clearly trying to build up the courage to ask her something.

“We need a different type of favor actually.” She tried to wrap her head around what Dustin might have been implying. Sure a lot of highschool kids asked her to buy them alcohol and such and she would be lying if she said she never obliged them.

“So we have this DND group,” Mike added and she almost laughed. Of course this would be about Eddie Munson and his stupid fucking DND cult.

“Yeah yeah, with Sinclair. Where is he anyways?” she asked, referring to their other friend who was part of the club as well. She kept up with the kids due to her best-friendship with their resident babysitter Steve Harrington. And because of that she knew that Lucas had a basketball game that night and that’s likely why they were pleading with her to join.

“So that’s why we’re here.” Mike introduced the idea with the amount of elegance she would expect from a Freshman in highschool who played DND in his freetime. He wasn’t convincing in the slightest but she allowed the two boys to continue with their pitch.

“He bailed. We need an extra for tonight.” Dustin brought a reason to the table, seemingly the more logical one of the two.

“Ask Harrington,” she shot back, presenting them with their first alternative. Also presenting her with an out so she wouldn’t have to see the infamous leader of their little club.

“He has a date,” Dustin replied smugly, knowing he had caught her in a bad spot.

“And you assume I don’t.” It was matter of fact. She stated that she had other things to do and that their excursion wasn’t worth her time. She was interested to see how they would respond.

“What you do isn’t considered dating,” Mike scoffed and she thought about smacking him in the side of the head. She decided against it since she was at work, and on her boss’s last nerve.

“Don’t be an ass. You’re too young to be talking about all that crap,” she replied sternly, reminding them that although she was a cool adult she was still an adult.

“So you’ll be there?” He asked, knowing it would be better to ask her a yes or no question than drag on and let her avoid the offer until she was able to coax them out of the shop.

“Yeah. Fine.” She had a soft spot for the kids so it was a no-brainer that she would help them out even if it was really inconvenient and uncomfortable for her.

She went home and changed into something nicer. Even after everything she was still trying to impress Eddie, some things never changed. It’s not like he would care, or more likely he’d make a snide comment about her outfit and then ignore her for the rest of the night.

Her assumption was right, his first words when she walked through the door were a comment about her promiscuity. “You brought the school slut into my sanctuary?” He was as rude as ever, still sporting that ridiculous haircut that she’d never admit to liking.

“Former school slut. I graduated, unlike you,” she snapped back, trying not to show that it hurt her. This game they had been playing for years only worked if he thought she hated him too, she couldn’t even think of how much worse it would be if he knew the truth.

“You don't have to rub it in. Plus I don’t have the advantage of sleeping with my teachers for grades.” He knew it wasn’t true but he said it anyway to get under her skin. He couldn’t help himself when that familiar scowl crawled over her face, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think it was cute.

“I never- whatever lets just get this stupid shit over with.” She stumbled over her words as she tried to remind herself why she was here in the first place. Partly because she wanted to help her favorite freshmen and partially because she was a bit of an emotional masochist.

The campaign dragged on as far as she was concerned, her character dying early into the final boss battle. Eddie spared no opportunity to make a dig at her at any given chance, making the whole thing even more unbearable.

She also didn’t miss the way, despite claiming to hate her, he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. Men are like that, wanting to fuck the very thing they’re dispise. Although, she liked to think anything with a brain wanted to fuck her. And most of the time she was right.

This was one of those times.

By the time the campaign was over, he was half hard from her leaning over the table in her unbearably low cut shirt. If he was a prude he might have suggested she cover herself up in the presence of the freshmen.

But he wasn't a prude, and he was quite enjoying the view down her shirt. A red lacy bra peaked out from the neckline when she bent down to pick up the dice. He regretted the way he reacted, voicing his frustration in pointed insults and taunting just like he did when they were in school.

When everything was done, he just needed to go home and rub one out in the shower. The shame would set in later, just like it always did. He had had his eyes on her for a while now and nothing was worse than the embarrassment of her obvious disinterest. From what he had heard, she had been with practically every guy in their small town. Except for him.

For some reason she never turned her sights to him. At first he tried to be nice, the way other guys never were. They saw her as a sure thing, never respecting her. He didn’t want to do that to her, take what he wanted and rush off to brag about his conquest.

Embarrassingly, he actually had a really serious crush on her for all of highschool. He stills remembers the day they met, she sauntered into his biology class fifteen minutes late and sat down on top of his desk.

“Can I help you, miss?” the teacher had asked sternly.

“Not unless you can get me a pack of smokes, ma’am.” She hopped off the desk and stepped in front of the class, plucking a piece of chalk up and writing on the board in big letters. Bullshit. She wrote ‘bullshit’ on the chalkboard and then she promptly strutted right back out of the classroom, shooting him a wink as she left.

They became quick friends after that, taking solace in the fact both of them hated everything about the stupid small town. For the first two years of highschool they were inseparable. Things changed once she made a reputation for herself. It started with one guy blabbing his mouth and then another. It’s not like everyone wasn’t doing it, but people latched onto her as the town whore probably because of her unconventional attitude.

It made her more popular. For all the wrong reasons, but still it was nice to have people pay attention to her. Everyone wanted to have something others wanted and she certainly did have that.

She took pride in her looks, utilizing revealing clothing to enhance her already considerable assets. From what he could see, that hadn’t changed. That night she wore a tight, low cut, cropped t-shirt and a denim miniskirt that barely covered her ass.

Her beat up high tops tapped on the floor as she walked over to him. When the boss battle was over he had drifted into his own thoughts as the rest of the group dispersed. She hadn’t gone yet, he assumed it was so she could deliver some heart wrenching insult before she left and never thought about him again. It wasn’t that easy for him, he never stopped thinking about her.

“Oh my god you’re high. You fuckin junkie.” Her voice cut through his trance like a knife. She was always so mean but her voice sounded so pretty to him, it was giving him whiplash.

“I’m not high, I'm just thinking.” He was quick to correct her, wanting her to know he was completely sober for what he was about to say.

“About?” she scoffed, making it clear she didn’t think highly of his intelligence.

“Why do you hate me?” As soon as he asked the question he knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t help himself. He spent so many nights asking himself that question, it was high time someone else had to answer it.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” she snapped, anger bubbling over. It had been simmering all this time, and him acting like she was the reason there was a divide between them was just the final nail in the coffin.

“Yeah, after you ignored me for three years for no reason. I wanna know why you hate me.” His voice was frantic and upset, he didn’t know what his plan was but he wanted answers and he had her here now. It’s not like there were any remaining bridges to burn anyways.

“Oh because you were so friendly,” she replied sarcastically, referring to the way he had relentlessly mocked and criticized her publicly after their friendship ended. She could handle other people talking about her behind her back, but he said it to her face and it stung.

“I was confused. We were best friends and then-” he tried to defend himself but she quickly interrupted, seething at him trying to play the victim.

“Yeah we were. We were best fuckin friends and then you ruined everything.” Her voice sounded venomous, he flinched when she raised her voice just from the pure anger she radiated.

“What?” he asked dumbly.

“Junior year, winter formal,” she stated, as if it was supposed to mean something and It did mean something to both of them.

He remembered that night like it was yesterday. The dance was boring, they dipped after less than an hour and went back to her place. Her parents weren’t home so they decided to set up in the basement for a horror movie marathon.

She was scared out of her mind, or maybe he was. Either way they were curled up in eachothers arms, hiding from whatever monster was under the bed. After a particularly scary scene, she had crawled into his lap. He had thought maybe after all this time, he was finally going to get a chance with her.

His hands went to cup her waist, gripping the fabric of her dress in between his fingers. She was wearing a puffy purple cocktail dress with glitter. It looked stupid, well it would have looked stupid on anyone else. Because he thought she looked absolutely perfect. And he looked at her like she was the most beautiful person in the world.

She noticed the way he stilled, looking up at him in turn. “Eds, what's wrong?” He didn’t reply, not knowing the words to finally tell her how he felt. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. And for a second he thought she was going to kiss him, his hands tightened on her waist in anticipation.

But instead of what he expected, she shrunk back and mumbled something inherently. She made some excuse about being tired and shut off the movie, ordering him to go home. Nothing was said at the time, but he knew something was wrong. And based on the fact she completely ghosted him after that night, he was right.

“Yeah I remember.” He shook his head as if he was trying to shake the memory out, but like so many times before it didn’t work.

“The way you looked at me,” she added. He knew exactly the look she meant. It just hurt him more to realize the reason she rushed out that night was that she found out about his feelings. He had always assumed but having proof was harder somehow.

“You haven’t spoken to me in years because of a look?” he asked, he was angry but more than that he was just sad.

She wasn’t buying it. “No. It wasn't just any look. I know that look. That was the look of a guy who wants something.” That something she was referring to was obviously sex. So maybe he was in the clear, she hadn’t figured out about his feelings. The worse option that seemed to be reality, was she thought he was only friends with her because he was attracted to her.

“OK, is that such a crime?” he asked, not believing that they couldn’t have replaired their relationship from that with a mature conversation. Although, they were not having many mature conversations back at the age of 17.

“All that time. I thought you cared about me. And what, you were just playing the long con for a quick fuck?”

“Ok fine, I’ll admit it. In that moment, yeah I wanted to fuck you.” He should have told her that a quick fuck was absolutly not what he wanted but he was picking up on her anger and mirroring it.

“And now?” she asked, knowing exactly how to push his buttons even after all these years.

“Now? Yeah now I still do,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. And maybe it wasn’t. Things were different now, they were both adults and they were no longer friends. They could fuck no strings attatched, and that idea was starting to look enticing to them both.

“And the fucked up thing was. I almost did it. Because I liked you Eddie. I really liked you.” She couldn’t hide the way her lip was quivering as she spoke. She was angry but not with him anymore, she was angry with herself for letting him make her feel this. So in a roundabout way she was still mad at him too.

“Why didn’t you?” he questioned, still miffed by the whole ghosting him for three years thing. But she had said it, she liked him all those years ago. Not anymore, he thought. It didn’t matter now, if anything it just made the whole thing sting more.

“Because I knew it wouldn’t mean to you what it meant to me,” she finally admitted, stepping close to him so they were almost chest to chest. She looked up at him with something close to longing and he almost choked.

“And now?” he asked. There was a weird sort of sexual tension in the air that neither of them knew how to confront.

“You mean fucking nothing to me,” she hissed.

“Good,” he whispered, grabbing her face and pressing their lips together harshly. There was no affection in the way he kissed her at first, just rough lust and anger. Both of their pent up feelings spilled out as they grappled at each other's clothes for something to hold onto.

His hands smoothed over her legs, rucking up her skirt so he could squeeze her ass. He snapped the band of her underwear, it was a lacy red to match her bra. “You wear these for me?”

“Would I have needed to?” she teased, knowing by the way his hard on pressed against her that he didn’t need any extra encouragement.

“No. You’d still get me all riled up in a winter coat.” it was one of his ridiculously cheesy lines that she was sure he used on plenty of girls. But she couldn’t help but smile at it a little despite herself.

“How romantic,” she scoffed, pushing him back into a chair and sinking to her knees. Her hands ran up his thighs, kneading at the muscle covered by his ridiculously tight jeans.

She palmed him over the fabric, squeezing somewhat harshly. He didn’t mind one bit. “Fuck. Romantic isn’t the word I would use.” He especially didn’t mind when unzipped his pants and took him in her mouth. She wanted to say something about him going commando but she was a bit preoccupied with him brushing the back of her throat.

“Mmm,” she replied, whatever words she was saying were muffled by his cock in her mouth.

“Harrington is one lucky bastard,” he commented offhandedly, not thinking about his words since he was currently being deepthroated.

She pulled away instantly, as if she had been burned. She stood over him, something she wasn’t usually able to do since he was quite a bit taller than her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” she snapped, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look up at her.

He whined when her sharp nails dug into the flesh of his chin. It wasn’t a pained whine, his arousal at her roughness was evident in the way he twitched in his seat. “Nothin. Sorry.” Based on his public persona, she hadn’t expected him to be the submissive type. Not to say she wasn’t enjoying it.

“No Eds. You said something, why don’t you tell me again?” she demanded, taking pleasure in the way he reached for her with grabby hands as she stood there glaring at him.

“I heard rumors about you and Harington, if it’s true he’s a lucky guy. It was a compliment, honest,” he rambled, desperate for her to forgive him and get back to touching him where he needed it.

“You wanna know something?” She climbed into his lap, straddling him with ease in the large throne-like chair. When she first walked in she thought the chair was absolutely absurd, but now she was grateful for its width. She wrapped one hand around his neck as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I never fucked Steve. I never wanted to.”

“No?” he choked out, having a difficult time talking due to her gripping his throat tightly in her hand. He wouldn’t ask her to stop in a million years though.

She pressed little kisses all around his cheeks and jaw, never touching his mouth with hers. This might have upset him if he wasn’t too blissed out to notice with her lacey panties pressed tight against his cock. “All those years. I only ever wanted you.”

He nodded furiously, as if to say to ‘me too, i’ve been in love with you since freshman year.’ But that's not what she interpreted it as. She grinded down on him, squeezing his neck and biting a line up his neck. “Lookit you. Can’t even talk,” she cooed.

She removed the hand abstracting his breathing so both of her hands could cup his cheeks. “Gonna be good for me?” she asked, her overly sweet voice almost taunting him. He cringed at the fact she would never be this nice to him if he wasn’t about to stick his dick in her.

That made him understand what she was feeling a little bit better. All those years ago, when he was prepared to tell her he loved her, she thought all he wanted was her body. And she used to like him, he had said it. Now it was too late and all he got was some mindblowing sex to give her closure and make him fall even deeper under her spell.

And so his heart was heavy when she pushed her panties aside and slid down onto his cock. That didn’t make it any less pleasurable when she clenched around him. He felt like he was going to pass out, barely catching the praise spilling from her mouth. “Fuck, Eds. We shoulda done this ages ago,” she moaned, carefully picking her hips up and bringing them back down slowly.

“Yeah,” he agreed lazily, letting his hands fall to her waist and rub little circles on the skin there. She went slow which he appreciated, deep slow thrusts that made both of them shiver. His heartache had faded, realizing he would be content to only be one of her conquests. He would be anything she wanted if she kept looking at him like that.

Her eyes were glassy and filled with lust. She was usually so sharp but she looked content and peaceful for once. She looked beautiful. He brought one of his hands up to the back of her hair to smash their lips together again.

It was aggressive and messy, his tongue fighting to engulf every bit of her mouth. She giggled when he pulled back and kissed her again on the tip of her nose. “So pretty,” he murmured. He could've sworn his heart stopped when her walls fluttered around him at the praise.

“Eddie,” she gasped out when he finally brought his thumb down to circle her clit. He wasn’t as experienced as her but he knew his way around, both from porn and from a few hookups where he insisted on practicing that specific skill. None of his sexual interactions could top this, being balls deep in any other girl wouldn’t even compare to the way she said his name.

“Can’t leave my girl hanging,” he teased as she moaned into the skin of his neck, forgetting to move her hips for a minute due to his fingers distracting her.

She chose to ignore the fact that he called her his girl, she could deal with that later. What she couldn't deal with later was the fact he was very clearly close to his orgasm. He had noticed as well, speeding up his pace on her clit and using his other hand to tweak one of her nipples. “Shit. I’m close. Gimme a sec, I’ll get you there.”

She chuckled softly at his insistence. Her eyes were filled with admiration or something of the sort. He almost came right there, he could handle her fucking his brains out but something about her being soft with him was what really got him going. “Don't look at me like that. I won't last.”

“You don't have to. Cum inside me. Please.” She was coming close to her peak as well, his talented fingers working wonders at ‘getting her there’ as he had phrased it.

Her offer was all it took for him to spill inside her. The thick ropes of cum pumping into her along with his lips on her neck forced her over the edge as well.

Usually after such exertion she would flop down onto a soft bed and bathe in the bliss of it all for a moment. However, they were in a tricky position so she just kind of sat there awkwardly staring at him.

It wasn’t as awkward for him. From where he was standing, or sitting would be the correct term, he had just had the best sex of his life and the girl he’d been in love with for six years was filled with his cum and sitting on his dick and keeping it nice and warm for him. “Fuck. I love you.” That shook her out of her post orgasmic haze instantly.

She shook her head, not looking at him as she started to cry. It was abrupt and he was worried he had done something seriously wrong but he continued because he needed her to know how he felt.

“You meant everything to me back then. You still do,” he admitted, his hands cupping her cheeks so she would look at him with her tearfilled eyes.

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded, begging him not to get her hopes up but he brushed her off like it was nothing.

“It’s true. I love you,” he repeated, this time with more meaning and passion if that was possible.

“Eds,” his old nickname slipped out of her mouth so easily. It hurt to hear the way she said it. Like she was cautioning him against continuing his confession, or almost like she was pleading.

“That night at junior prom, I wasn’t trying to fuck you. I was going to tell you about how I felt.” When he said that, all the puzzle pieces finally fit together in her head. But she had been telling herself for so long that he could never feel that way about her, it didn’t even compute that he was confessing his love for her over and over again.

“We’re not even 20. You can’t really think this is anything more than teenage hormones.” She was always cynical. He loved that about her but it was getting damn frustrating.

“You tell me? Do you love me?” he asked, finally turning the question back around at her. She was never a good liar.

“I can't-'' she tried to avoid the question but he cut her off.

“You’ve got my heart in your hand and I’m just asking you to break it. Do you love me?” She never realized how poetic he could be. He was always teatricial, but never like this. It made her think for a second that maybe he was serious.

Screw it, she figured. Why not? “Yeah. I do. I love you.”

He could already feel his dick hardening again at that admittance. And she could likely feel it too since he was still situated inside of her. “This isn’t going to sound very romantic, but do you want to go back to my place?” he asked hesitantly, way too timid for their current position. “Yeah I’d like that,” she replied before kissing him softly. It was slow and sweet, like they had all the time in the world. Because they did.

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction

10K notes · View notes

hyuckiefluff · 9 months

Text

drunk in you | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers word count: 1.9k ish warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, suggestive language, reader is down bad for mark (aren’t we all), implications of drunk sex summary: was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol. author's note: i’m backk!! srry for disappearing for *checks calendar* two months lol this has been sitting in my drafts since mark cut his hair aaand i wanted to post it for his bday so let’s pretend im not 3 days late! HAPPY BDAY MARKIEEE <33 it’s a bit short cuz i felt like i’d have to make a second part if i wanted to add smut to yknow fully get into it lol idk but consider this a little teaser and if it doesn’t flop I’ll post a second part :)

part 2

A sudden burst of bright light pierced through your closed eyelids, jolting you awake from the deep sleep you were in. As you gradually became aware of your surroundings, you couldn't ignore the soreness in your muscles and the strange stickiness between your legs. However, it was the foreign hand resting right on top of your ass that sent alarm bells ringing through your mind. Your eyes shot open, and regret instantly washed over you as a pulsating pain hammered at your head.

"What the fuck..." you groaned, attempting to focus your blurry vision and make sense of the situation. Upon looking around, you realized that you were in the guys' dorm, more specifically, in Mark's room...

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

If you were in Mark's room, then that hand... and the body it belonged to, had to be...

Oh my god, what happened last night?

8 hours earlier…

Drinking with your friends after a grueling week at uni wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. In fact, it'd be weirder if you were cooped up at home worrying about midterm grades instead of laughing your head off at whatever Jeno just blurted out. First sign that you were drunk, the boy wasn’t even that funny. His neck and ears were flushed crimson, a clear sign that he, too, had indulged in one too many drinks. And there was Jisung, practically glued to Jeno's side, oozing a whole lot of gooey affection that he would vehemently deny once he sobered up.

Renjun and Haechan were locked in a heated argument on the floor, their voices rising in the air over some trivial matter that would probably be forgotten by morning. Surprisingly, though, they seemed to be the least intoxicated among you.

Meanwhile, Jaemin was frantically rummaging through the kitchen, his frustrated groans and curses echoing throughout the room. It was clear that his search for more alcohol was proving to be a fruitless endeavor.

Beside you, Chenle was on his phone, engrossed in a replay of the Warriors game. At first glance he doesn’t look drunk, but you knew better. If he were truly sober, he'd be shouting and cursing at his phone screen, venting his frustrations as his beloved team struggled to keep up. Instead, he was lazily sipping from his nearly empty cup while his glossed over eyes remained glued to the screen.

Mark Lee was the only one missing from the group. You sent him a few voice messages letting him know that if he didn’t arrive in the next 10 minutes you would eat his portion of the kimchi jiggae you’d ordered earlier. He responded within seconds with a funny GIF that showed a man running and tripping.

Mark stumbled through the door just a few minutes later. He was soaked from head to toe, his hoodie covering most of his head. He was panting and his shoes were muddy and wet, he got rid of them in the entrance and looked up, clearly out of breath. But you were already stuffing your face with his food anyways. Whoops.

Though as soon as he pulled down the hood a chunk of food went down the wrong pipe. You coughed uncontrollably, your chest heaving as you desperately tried to regain your breath.

"Dude!! Are you seriously eating my food?" he exclaimed.

But when he noticed your struggling state, his words trailed off, replaced by genuine worry. "Yo, are you good?" he asked, walking closer to you and patting you in the back.

You managed to nod weakly, staring up at him.

"Why’re you so late? Oh, new haircut?" Haechan chimed in from the floor.

"Yeah... what's the verdict?" Mark asked, turning his head to the side to better show off the lines of his undercut, his gaze lingering on you.

So many thoughts raced through your mind but you were unable to form a single word. Mark had had long hair for quite some time now, and it was you who had encouraged him to let it grow. You enjoyed styling it, braiding it, and adorning it with charms—Mark gave you the freedom to do whatever you pleased with his hair. You had grown fond of his long hair, especially after helping nurse it back to health from the damage caused by bleaching and dyeing. Yet now he was sporting short hair and an undercut with edgy designs on the side, and you couldn't help but openly ogle at him.

He looked hot as fuck.

It’s true that you harbored feelings for Mark that went beyond friendship but you were always able to hide it well and it worked out better this way for both of you (or that’s what you liked to believe). Needless to say you liked him a lot and had for a while so the sight of his new look had sent your emotions spiraling. He showed up merely minutes ago and you already felt so weak at the knees and your brain was fuzzy even though you hadn’t drank that much yet.

"Don't like it," you muttered, hoping your words would deflect attention from the clear shift in your expression. Turning around, you sought refuge on the couch next to Chenle, placing the bowl of food aside. Your stomach was turning weirdly, making it impossible to swallow another bite.

You scolded yourself inwardly for being so dramatic. It was just a haircut. But, god, he looked so good.

In an attempt to calm yourself down, you chugged your cup with soju and let out a big groan after emptying it. The sound catching Chenle’s attention as he peered curiously from his phone. You offered him a closed-lip smile, prompting an intrigued eyebrow raise from him.

Mark was awkwardly standing on the same spot. He was a bit taken aback by your sudden coldness. He definitely picked up on your strange reaction the moment he walked through the door. But he brushed it off.

"Okaay… Well I was late 'cause I was getting the good stuff," Mark explained, his frown replaced by a grin as he pulled out a beer from the bags he was carrying.

"Let's goooo!" Jaemin yelled, returning from the kitchen right on cue as if he some sort of alcohol detector. He eagerly snatched the bags from Mark and made a kissy face to the boy.

The tension eased a bit with Jaemin's infectious enthusiasm, and you decided to not focus on whatever Mark was making you feel right now. The drinks were here, and the good times were about to roll. You made a mental note to sort out your feelings later.

Alcohol definitely did not make your situation better. The more you drank the harder it was to keep your thoughts at bay. Mark was now sitting on the single couch in front of you and every little expression or movement he made had you either biting your lip or pressing your thighs together.

Talking about thighs… the shorts he was wearing displayed his muscular legs in a way that was making it quite impossible for you to not devour them with your eyes. God, your brain had turned into that of a hormonal teenage boy. Were you seriously staring at his thighs and imagining how it would feel to ride them?

Haechan came over to you and filled your glass with more Soju. You downed it as soon as he was done pouring it, earning you a weird look from Chenle who had been eyeing you ever since Mark arrived.

"Okay, what's with you?" Chenle mumbled, the words escaping his lips just loudly enough to capture everyone's attention. Considering you had the noisiest group of friends, all eyes turned your way, including Mark's.

Mark seemed to be getting tipsy; you could tell by the way his big, expressive eyes shimmered even more than usual and the faint blush that adorned his cheeks and neck.

"Hmm?" you managed to reply, your gaze still fixated somewhere on Mark's face. You were completely unaware of the intense amount of attention you were giving him, but Chenle, who was relatively more sober than both of you, picked up on it.

"You're literally looking at Mark like you want to eat him," Chenle chuckled, teasingly calling you out.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Renjun asked, suddenly intrigued by the topic.

"I am?" you replied, sounding genuinely confused, though your heart raced with thoughts you were about to voice out loud. "Uhm… yeah I kinda do..."

An audible gasp followed, and you knew without looking that it came from Haechan.

Mark's expression remained unreadable, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, revealing no discernible emotions. Was he weirded out? Normally, you might have felt self-conscious about blurting out something like that, but alcohol had significantly lowered your inhibitions.

"That's a wild thing to say," Haechan interjected with a mix of shock and amusement. "Do you actually wanna tap that?" He pointed at Mark, who was still gazing at you.

"Very much so," you replied nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, even though you were openly talking about hooking up with your best friend in front of all your other best friends.

"Why don't you come here then?" Mark's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice the way he shifted, his legs spread invitingly.

You burst into laughter assuming he was only joking to tease you. However, the lack of a reaction from him made you realize he was dead serious. Your eyes locked on his own, reflecting the same desire you had been giving him just moments ago.

The idea of getting up and walking to him, straddling his lap, and kissing him flashed through your mind.

But the moment was interrupted by a voice that snapped both of you out of your trance. "Gross!" Jisung whined, hiding his face in Jeno's back, the older one lazily laughing and patting Jisung's thigh. "Okay, c'mon, I think we've all had enough to drink," he declared, getting up, with Jisung clinging to him. Chenle follow suit also giving you two a slightly disgusted stare.

"Yeah, one more drink for me, and I'm afraid the kimchi jiggae I had earlier might end up all over the carpet," Haechan chimed in, rubbing his stomach before disappearing upstairs.

Renjun also stood up and playfully messed up Mark's hair while saying, "By the way, happy birthday."

You glanced at the table clock and realized it was already 12:01. You had been so excited about Mark's birthday earlier in the day, but the alcohol and the tension between the two of you made you totally forget about it. Gathering your courage, you approached him. He remained sprawled with his legs out, but now he looked up at you, his lips slightly wet, distracting you momentarily.

"Happy birthday, silly," you smiled and awkwardly patted his head, hoping he didn't notice how you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the uncomfortable ache between your legs.

"What did you get me?" he suddenly asked, and you blinked a few times, your brain struggling to register the extremely flirtatious tone he used.

When you didn't respond immediately, he continued, "Because I can think of one thing I want the most right now," lightly grazing your leg with his hand. You didn't flinch or move away.

"R-really? What is it?" you found yourself stuttering, a reaction that would have made you cringe if you were more sober.

"Come here, and I'll show you," he smirked and with little protest from you, he pulled you onto his lap.

a/n: i have a smut scene ready for this (well it’s in my brain but I’ll squeeze it out if u guys want that second part) soooo comment or simply like this so i know the audience wants it

also yes i did change the title of this but pls disregard that lol

part 2

#nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream fic #nct dream scenario #nct imagines #nct smut #nct mark #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #nct moodboard #mark lee x you #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream drabbles #mark lee imagines #mark lee fic

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purinfelix · 5 months

Note

Hello! I love your writing 💕 can i request something fluff with gavi?

post-match routine ˙✧˖°

pairing: gavi x reader (established relationship) summary: your plans for post-match cuddles with your boyfriend are interrupted when he debuts a new haircut at a game warnings: none - just fluff !! w/c: 988

a/n: thank you sm for the rq and kind words anon!! <33 i had an idea to write smth like this a while ago (when gavi first cut his hair lol) but i'm missing him a lot now so :"") here it is - consider it a love letter to his long and fluffy hair

The jingle of keys echoing through your empty apartment alerted you of your boyfriend’s arrival home after a match. You craned your neck from your spot on the couch, where you had made yourself comfortable to doom scroll on your phone. Due to an overload of work you had had to miss this game, but had just been catching up on its events after finally muscling your way through your workload. The boys had won, of course, but there was something else that had caught your eye when looking through match highlights - your boyfriend’s hair.

You almost didn’t believe it when you saw the clips of him walking out from the locker room, seeing how short he had cut his hair almost sent you spiralling. Obviously, you would still love him nonetheless, but his fluffy hair had always been one of your favourite things about him. And now, it was just so short. And you may or may not have taken to your various social media platforms to express your disdain for it, which you may or may not have overexaggerated for the sake of humouring his fans.

As you heard the door swing open though, you tossed your phone aside to focus your attention solely on the heaving mass that was your boyfriend as he staggered in. He really looked like hell, and you weren’t just talking about his new haircut, you would choose to bite your tongue on that for now. After an intense match, without having been subbed off once, he stood there sweaty, visibly aching with a pained expression.

“Hello baby,” you coo smoothly, watching as the bags he was only just holding onto fell to the ground around him. Usually after long matches, espeically one’s you couldn’t attend, Gavi would come home and collapse into your arms. It was his way of ‘recharging’ before getting cleaned up.

But today was different. He simply stood there, swaying side to side - although you were sure this was more a result of the unstoppable force of fatigue than any actual deliberate choice of his. There was one feature though that told you all you needed to know - a familiar pout spread across his face as he looked down at his own feet.

“You really hate my hair that much?” His tone was quiet, his voice nothing more than a small, meagre ask. He must’ve seen your tweets, and your story, and maybe the few messages you had sent to him in the blind flurry that had followed first seeing his hair. You almost felt bad, hearing how guilty he sounded and it took everything within you not to give into your cuteness aggression and smother him right there and then.

“No,” you let out a soft laugh, “I was only kidding,”

“But, your tweets … and your stories …” he began, sounding so upset you couldn’t help but interrupt him.

“It’s not my favourite of your looks, but I still love you, hm?”

“Oh, thank god …” Gavi let out weakly, followed by a sigh of relief as if he had been waiting an eternity just to hear those words. Finally he managed to stagger over to where you were, albeit unsteadily, before collapsing onto you.

You let out a soft exclamation at the feeling of your boyfriend’s entire body weight pressing down on you, a feeling you had come to not only find familiar but also a great deal of comfort in. He was sticky with sweat and his body radiated a heat you could only barely stand. But despite this he was still your boyfriend, your Gavi, and so you did the only thing you knew to do - wrap your arms around him and pull him closer.

He let out a croak of thanks at this, shifting into a more comfortable position with his head turned to the side as he offered you a weak smile.

“You played well today,” you mumble endearingly.

“You say that every game,” he was quick to respond, even through the fatigue his attitude was strong.

“Not my fault you play well every game,” you shot back even quicker, fingers coming up to delicately brush away the stray strands of hair stuck to his forehead. You let your fingers dance across his face, his cheeks, his eyebrows, each touch softer than the last. He only let out a hum in response, closing his eyes at the feeling he’d come to love far more than he’d ever admit.

You two sit in silence for a while, and you had thought your boyfriend had drifted off to sleep on your chest as it would’ve been far from the first time he had. Rather though, he had just been listening in silence to your heartbeat, ear pressed to your chest, rising with each breath. Suddenly, the silence was broken by his soft voice coming once more.

“Do you really think Pedri’s hair is nicer than mine?” You weren’t even looking but you could tell these words were coming from pouted lips. He must’ve been making reference to one of the throwaway tweets you had made about his haircut, because you could barely remember now.

“Maybe,” you start, but as you watch his eyebrows furrow you’re quick to change your answer, accompanied by a laugh, “No, of course not.”

At this, Gavi smiled, letting out a soft laugh of his own - music to your ears. He used what was left of his diminishing energy to take your hand, which up until now had been softly stroking his nape, and press it languidly to his lips. It was about as much affection as he could show in his tired state and you knew that all too well as you gazed down at him fondly.

“You’ll be the death of me someday,” was the last thing he confessed, barely above a whisper but loud enough that you caught it, before drifting off to sleep.

#pablo gavi #gavi #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi fluff #fc barcelona #football #football fanfic #fanfic #purinfelix #jet writes ★#jet answers ✧

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verysium · 5 months

Note

PLEASE DO BLUE LOCK ICKS IM BEGGING🙏😭🌹

😏 coming right up anon. gonna channel my inner critic and not hold back on any of these.

RIN

brother complex. not much else to say except that he needs to get a life. not everything is about metaphorically crushing your older brother's dreams and brooding in the dark hate of retribution.

competitive but only because he is a desperate whore for external validation. ignores everyone but craves the attention of a sole person named sae itoshi. was defeated by isagi once and has never let go of it since. has a one-track mind that is impossible to derail. stubborn when he wants to be.

probably a virgin and will continue to be one until his late 30s.

has not known a single day of peace ever since sae ditched him for the popular girlies. as a result, he has developed a very concerning case of social awkwardness. his idea of a conversation involves a brick wall and thirty minutes of you staring at his resting bitch face. constantly looks like that one grumpy cat meme. judges you for your poor decisions but then gets aggressively defensive when you point out his own mistakes.

reeks of so much teen angst that even metallica can't save him. the problem is that he has nothing to back up his emo persona. his insults lack creativity and, unfortunately for him, phrases like "lukewarm" and "half-baked" and "hell" do not make his words carry more weight. uses the f-word but in the most embarrassing context that it makes you facepalm and internally cringe.

SAE

zero social awareness. this boy's head is empty. the lights are not on up there. there are no picture frames or furniture. the curtains are drawn, and there is not a sliver of clouds or sunshine. cannot read body language and does not know what a filter is.

the source of all of rin's stress. he is the original trauma projector, creator of generational cycles. not even subtle about it. "turns out i was wrong. i thought japan was incapable of ever giving birth to decent forwards." sir....with the way you worded that, you knew exactly what you were doing when you gave rin false hope.

swears but it's even worse than his brother. literally called his elders a "fatso and bob cut duo" and "insect turd." i mean....there is a line between what is considered a legitimate burn and what is a first grader making up insults in his coloring book.

has a horrible haircut and no fashion taste. i already talked about this previously, but it was so bad it deserved a second mention.

a freak but tries to justify it rationally. like what do you mean you can tell a person's athletic ability from their buttock size? just admit you have a kinky fetish already.

somewhat of a coward but i'm gonna give him some leniency due to his tragic child genius backstory. tbh he's just an eighteen-year-old boy who needs a goddamn break.

KAISER

alexa please play clown music. this man sets himself for failure and then wallows in self-pity when he actually fails. like what did you expect? you knew what was going to happen the moment you challenged isagi like that. it was most definitely your fault you got violently humbled.

has a borderline god complex (currently calls himself an emperor but has not evolved into a deity yet.) unfortunately, he does not stand on business. cue the dramatic meltdowns when he realizes there is an actual gap between his ability and his reputation. if you're going to lie, at least make it believable.

insecure and mentally unstable. he probably cuts and re-dyes his hair every single time shit happens. no wonder his locks get shorter every time.

lazy when it comes to anything that is not football and expects others to do it for him. demands princess treatment wherever he goes. unfortunately, not all of us have servants with no self-respect like ness.

"it is not enough that i should succeed, others should fail" type of person.

does not wear shoes and even if he does, it's sandals. put them grippers away.

NAGI

a literal sloth who has so much potential but uses none of it. has no intrinsic motivation of his own, so if he's going to do anything, it has to be you behind the wheel, making sure he gets put to work.

does not have a close relationship with his parents, and so he has no sense of community, holidays, or traditions. no fun at all if you want him to do things like christmas shopping or birthday celebrations.

rots in bed all day and then has to nerve to ask you to carry him around. your back better be strong because his 190 cm body is not going to be light.

not loyal (need i say more.)

REO

second male lead syndrome. also known as that one popular guy who's always picked last.

acts like a victim but then when you realistically tell him to how to change his situation he refuses to do so. you cannot ask for advice and then take none of it to heart. no wonder you're still not over your ex.

"i can fix him" mentality. no, you can't. you are a seventeen-year-old child, not a licensed therapist and nagi isn't even all that.

NESS

touch-starved to the point he will stay in a toxic and abusive relationship in order to gain some scrap of affection. just because you were the black sheep of your family does not mean you can lose all sense of personal dignity.

probably stalks all the people he hates. has a burn book like regina george from mean girls. cuts out and glues little pictures of kaiser all over his bedroom. doodles hearts all over it with glittery gel pen. isagi's face and name are scratched out of every team photo.

delusional and prone to mood swings. medicated but at this point, he is beyond saving.

ISAGI

a home wrecker. has ruined more relationships than he can count on ten fingers yet still manages to smile like he's some angelic saint.

solves jigsaw puzzles for a living (not very cool if you ask me.)

has some unresolved anger management issues. probably repressed all his negative feelings when he was younger, so it all comes out when he's on the field. unfortunately, his twilight-sparkle-friendship-is-magic agenda is not going to work if he keeps cussing out his teammates like that. but then again, he is the main character, so i guess his plot armor makes up for his pitfalls.

says that he's a good guy but then holds personal vendettas against rivals he doesn't like. boy was so ready to throw hands when #kaisagi was trending on the internet. but when you actually think about, he's similar to kaiser in more ways than he'd like to admit.

BAROU

has the worst case of high and mighty "holier-than-thou" attitude. isagi put his ego in check, but it still peeks out from time to time.

he was the ugliest baby when he was born. i am not going to hold back on the child barou slander because it is true. no, he was not a cute and lovable bundle of joy. he looked like a demonic gremlin.

he needs to take more risks in life and try cross-dressing. simply imagining him in a maid uniform will not suffice. it needs to be made into a reality.

with how nit-picky he is, i doubt people can realistically stay within a 1-meter radius around him. unless you are a clean freak yourself, his constant complaints will start to get annoying after a time. even if he does have good intentions, he needs to let people have a little breathing room sometimes. a messy room is not going to kill you.

BACHIRA

this boy's brain is smooth. no folds. no gray matter. no intelligence either. his pencil and eraser have been left untouched since day one. if he wasn't crazily good at football, he would be unemployed and homeless in the future. not even a mcdonald's wants him.

one of those people who will do the literal opposite of whatever you say. you want him to stop talking? well, now he's never going to shut up. you tell him not to step on a pile of dog shit? well, now he's going to walk right into it. you want him to quit running around and act normal? well, now it's his life's mission to make you as annoyed as possible. please pray for your hair follicles because at the end of the day, you're not going to have many left with how much he makes you want to tear your hair out.

has the cerebral capacity of a toddler. if he thinks monsters are real, he's going to think anything is real. super gullible when it comes to any form of scam, ploy, or trickery. the only way he would not be fooled is if he's also played the same prank before.

SHIDOU

a brazen pervert. says the most out-of-pocket things and refuses to apologize for them. sometimes it comes out a little too sleazy for your liking.

"to me a goal is fertilization! a shot is the seed and the goal is the egg!! and the birth of that joy i call an explosion!! my genes are gonna knock you up!" let us give ourselves a moment of silence to digest this quote. only shidou ryusei would come up with a sperm and egg metaphor to describe football. (i guess protection means nothing to him.)

has no empathy. if you dislike him or cannot keep up with him, you're a literal nobody in his books. no sportsmanship. no compassion. no self-awareness.

you cannot say "balls" to him in a serious tone without him misinterpreting it as something dirty. that alone should tell you enough. stay the hell away from him.

where do men get the audacity? right here. from this little bastard. he invented the term "shameless slut." boy was getting off during the u-20 arc and on live TV too. no wonder sae said he was disgusting.

and finally, he comes from a long line of cockroaches. he's even got the antennae to prove it.

i think this might have been a little excessive, but i have no regrets about it. you're welcome anon ♡

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